


O'hé naa Hó'tah

by EbonyAura



Category: Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: Prime
Genre: Cultural Differences, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forced Bonding, M/M, Near Death Experiences, References to Fighting, References to bullying, References to kidnapping, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, mentions of minor character death, tribal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:35:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23377744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyAura/pseuds/EbonyAura
Summary: The triple charger knew his yellow minibot was still adjusting to life among the Decepticon tribe. But his talkative, joyful personality was enough to convince anyone that he didn't miss the city.Bumblebee never missed it in the first place. And that's what worries Blitzwing.
Relationships: Blitzwing/Bumblebee, Megatron/Optimus Prime
Comments: 11
Kudos: 140





	O'hé naa Hó'tah

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, why aren't there more works for this beautiful pairing? I LOVE THIS COUPLE AND THEY DESERVE MORE RECOGNITION!! So I'm gonna add my own fluff to the pile. Tribal-style. 
> 
> A couple items to note:  
> 1) Before you go looking up what the title means, I'll give you a head start. It's Native American, specifically Cheyenne dialect, and it roughly translates to "Distance and Defeat." If that doesn't make sense to the story, I'm sorry, I didn't know what to name it either.  
> 2) In continuation of the previous note, there is a bit more Cheyenne dialect in here (just one sentence though, and it's meaning is explained in the dialogue). But researching the language in a short period of time was very difficult, so the translation is VERY ROUGH, and I apologize in advance to anyone who may find what I did offensive. I honestly meant no harm, it's just for a story.  
> 3) This story is actually a continuation of a previous MegOp work I wrote a few months back, "Unredeemable Actions." I did not label them as a series because this work can actually stand on it's own, you don't really need to read the previous one if you don't want to. But if you do, cool, you'll find it in my works.  
> 4) There's some self-hate, there's some sadness, there's some whacks and throwing bots over shoulders (not because they're barbarians, more just cause he was angry), there's a steamy make-out, there's a near-death experience (Betcha didn't see that one coming, did ya)  
> 5) Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just like playing with them.

_It was right there. Right there!_

The crystalline fruit dangled over his head, catching the sunlight through the forage just right that its rays reflected in an array of colors on the tree trunk. It made for a beautiful sight, especially in the midst of so many other fruits, nuts, and foliage that had formed in various ways. Perhaps if he wasn’t so determined to get this last fruit, he would’ve taken a moment to enjoy the world perched at the top of the trees.

But _no_. This long, curved fruit mocked him, hanging just out of his reach as if to make light of the fact that he had such short arms. Even some of the younglings would’ve been able to reach it faster than he could.

Bumblebee huffed, perching one ped on a higher limb and pulling himself upward. If he could just get on top of that branch the fruit was hanging off of, he could walk across and take it. Easy. He was _not_ going to let this fruit get the best of him.

“What are you doing, bug?”

Came a voice from down below.

Startled out of his focus, the yellow bot gasped, almost letting go of the trunk. But he quickly hugged it, pressing his face against the course metal bark that had warmed from his frame heat. He knew the voice well, but hadn’t expected to hear it for at least another few groons. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he pulled his face away to glare downward.

“ _Blitzwing_ , I’m trying to concentrate here!”

He yelled back, staring through the tree’s lower branches at the ground. There, beside the trunk, the beige and purple triple charger was watching him, clearly back from hunting with the other warriors earlier than expected. He was a statue amidst the other mechs below as they went about their own harvesting, picking at berry bushes and digging up edible roots.

“You’re trying to hurt yourself.”

The warrior replied pointedly, and Bumblebee caught the wings on his back twitching. He rolled his optics at the monocular that scrutinized his precarious position in the canopy.

“I’m _fine_ , Blitzwing. I almost got it, just give me a klik!”

Peeling one servo off of the trunk, Bumblebee grabbed the next limb above him, yanking up with enough momentum to find a seat where the trunk curved into the branch. His legs swung on either side of it as he looked over at the fruit now dangling below him, realizing too late that he wouldn’t actually be able to walk across. But that was fine, his size had some advantages when it came to climbing. Propping himself on his servos and knees, he slowly crawled on the branch over to the fruit, placing each of his palms carefully in front of the other.

Blitzwing’s red optic flashed, and his face suddenly spun with a whir to exchange it for a glaring visor.

“You stupid insect! Stop what you’re doing and get down here before you fall!”

He snarled. Bumblebee ignored him, putting all of his focus on the steady progress made towards his prize. When he was finally perched overtop of where the fruit hung, the yellow bot slid down to wrap his legs and arm securely around the branch. Then, he let himself swing upside down, stretching out his remaining free servo towards the colorful crystals.

“Almost…!”

Just as his digits brushed against it, the limb began to sink from his weight. He caught the sound of the trunk splintering and cracking just a moment before panic shocked his frame. Involuntarily he spazzed, all of his limbs jerking enough to shake his grip on the branch. Bumblebee’s optics blew wide and he reached out for something to grab, his servo landing on the fruit that snapped away from the tree. He screamed, flailing as he fell.

_“Bumblebee!!”_

The free fall only lasted a few moments, and ended when someone barreled into him from another direction, thwarting him from gravity’s grip. The yellow bot felt himself pulled against something solid and warm, curling around him until they finally hit the ground and rolled. When the jostle of the landing finally stopped, Bumblebee was unable to move, his entire body shaking too hard to cooperate. He panted, trying to catch up with his jittering spark which was just coming to terms with the fact that he almost died.

A boisterous laugh shook the metal around him, loosening its grip until he was a shaking ball in a large bot’s lap.

“I saved you!”

Slowly, Bumblebee tilted his helm back, coming face-to-face with a crimson optics and a jagged smile. Blitzwing laughed again, his massive arms coming back around to hug him tightly as the triple charger jumped up to his peds.

“It’s okay everyone! I saved my bug!”

He cried out, prancing in place with fluttering wings. Around them, the other tribe members who’d started paying attention when the minibot fell lost interest and walked away. Bumblebee was grateful, if not unnerved, by their lack of reaction. It was enough to ponder just how many sparklings had fallen from trees and bounced away from it in one piece for them to pay it little mind. Blitzwing didn’t seem to be bothered by their reaction, stopping to set his mate on unsteady legs before his face spun.

“What in the name of the spirits were you thinking?!”

He spat loudly, his red face blistering with heat. Bumblebee glanced up at the warrior sheepishly, guilt creeping into his spark at the scuffs now littering the warrior’s wings. Clearly his fall didn’t leave everyone involved _completely_ unscathed.

“I… um…”

Bumblebee went to shrug, but found that he was clutching something tightly to his chest plates. He looked down, his optics flashing in surprise when it turned out to be the fruit that he’d been attempting to get. His field burst a little in pride, and he held it up nervously.

“... I got it?”

Blitzwing’s visor flared for a moment, and his faces spun back to the one with the monocular. He looked from Bumblebee to the fruit a couple times before heaving a sigh, his tense cables relaxing.

“Yes, you did.”

He replied tiredly. Bumblebee looked back down at the fruit. On a whim, he pried it into a semblance of two halves, offering the bigger piece to the triple charger.

“Here, you helped.”

The yellow bot relented, hoping the warrior wasn’t too mad. Despite the exasperation in his expression, Blitzwing couldn’t help a small smile. He took the offered piece, and reached down to let his digits stroke over his mate’s face.

“Thank you, little one.”

Bumblebee smiled when he took a bite, noticing that little quiver to the warrior’s wings which happened whenever he was joyful or enjoying something. He may have three faces, but anyone who knew him should’ve been aware that it was the little things that counted in Blitzwing’s expressions. The minute shifts of his limbs, the subtle quirks of his lip plates. And despite Bumblebee having slipped up again, at least he appreciated what he’d harvested.

“Now come,” The warrior suddenly spoke, making Bee blink as he turned on a heel. “There are more chores to do.”

The yellow bot had to jog to catch up with him, silently cursing the warrior’s long-legged strides. Bumblebee was a fast bot, he knew it, and he was certain that he could outrace any city bot if he tried. But the mecha of the tribe, as well as the warrior who’d claimed him as his mate, were endurance frame-types. They were efficient at high speeds, and could keep it up for longer stretches of time. It was one of the many factors of his new life the minibot was struggling to compensate for. He was always running to keep up with the tall mecha, there was always something to be done and he was still learning how to do almost all of the tasks assigned.

Bumblebee took a bite of his piece of fruit as they walked out of the trees and back towards camp. The tents were at least a few hundred yards away, but he could see the little sparklings running around them, followed by howling iron-hounds or chasing robo-chickens. They ran around the adults who weaved coverings or skinned dead mech-animals outside of their small tents. Bumblebee sighed shortly at the sight of their seamless movements, the way their knives glided through meat without a hitch. The way their digits worked grass and strings intro elegant patterns. He couldn’t help being jealous of the other tribe mecha, who performed the most basic activities like starting a fire or plucking a robo-chicken better than he ever could. Whenever Blitzwing caught his longing glances, he simply reminded him that they’d been doing it their whole lives; he on the other hand was a new arrival, and still needed to adjust.

Well, at the least, he could climb and harvest produce from trees. Somewhat.

Curiosity brushed against him in electro-magnetic waves, and Bumblebee tore his gaze away from camp and up to his mate. Blitzwing’s optic blinked back at him, his monocular spinning in and out to scrutinize him and the sigh he’d just made. The yellow bot quickly averted his gaze and avoided the other’s field, picking at his fruit as they hiked.

“H-How was the hunt?”

He asked, hoping a conversation could prove distraction. Blitzwing was silent for a moment before he hummed dully in reply.

“Uneventful. The herds have moved too far west for us to reach them in a day’s trek. We had to settle on what our traps could catch.”

Bumblebee’s brows furrowed, definitely distracted now as he glanced up at his mate.

“Wait, they moved again? I thought you said they moved a couple stellar cycles ago?”

Finishing off the last of the fruit piece, Blitzwing nodded.

“Mecha-deer are not stationary creatures, Bumblebee. They move as the seasons change, and the storm season is fast approaching. Soon they will migrate to the Manganese Mountains for cover, and we will have to follow.”

The statement gave him pause, and Bumblebee couldn’t help looking westward as the triple charger spoke. In the distance, he could see the mountain range, but from here they looked like small hills. Many of the other tribal mecha had begun talking about the moving as well, but the bits and pieces he could understand of their conversations were never all that enlightening. He still had a lot to improve on when it came to their language.

“So that’s what everyone was talking about,” the yellow bot said absently, taking another bite of his small piece of fruit. “That kinda sucks though. I mean, it’s really nice here. There’s plenty of food and stuff for everyone, even if the hunt was bad. Can’t we stay a while longer?”

Camp was fast approaching. The sparklings who had been dots in the distance were now running around them as they began to walk through the tents. Hearing a low chuckle, Bumblebee glanced up to see Blitzwing observing him with a small, almost absent-minded smile as he shook his helm.

“If we could, little one, I am sure we would. But the life of the forest will recede as the cold advances. Once the frozen acid reaches us, our huts will no longer suffice as shelter. We will have to take shelter in the mountain caves, and survive alongside the herds until the warm seasons return.”

Bumblebee couldn’t help the small shudder that ran over his spinal strut at the mention of frozen acid. Where he used to live in the city was much warmer, they always got acid rain during the storm season. And their buildings were fortified by layers of thick iron and neutralizer sealant. He never had to worry too much about it. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t heard the horror stories of frozen acid. Of bots whose frames shut down from frigid temperatures as their limbs melted away. Those stories felt so much more real as he realized that frozen acid was, in fact, his problem now.

Blitzwing must’ve seen uneasiness in the look on his face, or the way he was walking. He set a servo on the yellow bot’s shoulder, eliciting his attention.

“Don’t worry. The tribe will move on before any storms arrive. With the crops we harvest here, and the produce of our mech-animals, we will not starve either. And as your mate, I will not let you fall to harm.”

The declaration was spoken with such conviction, such determination, that Bumblebee had to look away to hide his blush. In spite of his cold, nasty exterior, the triple charger was very protective. It was hard not to find his devotion anything but sweet.

“Got it. T-Thanks Blitzy.”

He replied quietly, not able to completely hide the smile in his voice. The warrior must’ve noticed that too, because his servo lingered over the minibot’s back for a few extra moments before falling away.

They entered their tribe’s camp, and proceeded through the bustle of activity. Firepits crackled, some of them roasting meat or boiling energon in bowls. Mechs and femmes entered and exited their tents, sparklings ran around them, mech-animals cried out in search of food. Some of the warriors who’d been notably absent after dawn had returned, their bows still strung to their backs and spears still in servo after the hunt. Bumblebee looked up at them as they passed, and received curious but peaceful glances in return. At one point Soundwave wandered by, and his black faceplate tilted towards them in greeting. Blitzwing nodded back, Bumblebee averted his gaze and walked closer to the triple charger. It didn’t matter how many times he’d met the dark mech already, Soundwave was just creepy.

When Bumblebee looked away, he recycled his optics to see another familiar mech nearby. This time he couldn’t help a grin. It was Optimus, sitting beside a fire pit in front of a tent and weaving what looked to be a basket. In front of him sat at least ten sparklings. Their optics were wide and awed as he spoke to them, and Bumblebee decided he was probably telling them a story. _Well duh_ , he thought to himself, _he told the best stories in our caravan_. On the red and blue mech’s other side sat his mate, Megatron, who sharpened his sword as he listened. The minibot didn’t know much about Megatron, only that he would soon become chieftain and he talked to Blitzwing a lot. Oh, and he was downright _terrifying_.

Nevertheless, Bumblebee couldn’t help halting.

“Hi Optimus!” he called out, waving as he did so. “Make sure to tell them the one about the Predacons!”

Immediately, the red and blue mech stopped what he was doing and looked up. With him followed the optics of the sparklings. Cerulean optics blinked, but then he also smiled, casting back a small wave. Megatron glanced over at the yellow minibot, then at Blitzwing. The triple charger inclined his helm in greeting, and the tribe’s heir nodded back. With that, both adults looked back towards the sparklings, and their collective attention was regained as Optimus started talking again.

“Man,” Bumblebee thought out loud, shaking his helm as he and the triple charger kept walking. “I forgot Optimus was even _here_ for awhile. How could I not have seen him? We’ve been here for like, four stellar cycles. Did he just not come out of his tent at all?”

“From what Megatron has told me,” Blitzwing replied, his tone a bit more restrained as he spoke. “his mate chose to remain in their tent to begin his adjustment.”

The yellow bot couldn’t help it, he snorted.

“Well that’s stupid,” he declared. “How the frag do you adjust to life here by staying in a tent? I’d go nuts being in there that long!”

“I wouldn’t know,” the triple charger said back, pausing so that he didn’t run over a stray mecha-sheep running across their path. “Everyone adjusts differently when switching from life in the city to life among the tribe, Bumblebee. I would think you of all bots understand that.”

Bumblebee’s head snapped up towards Blitzwing.

“I mean, yeah, I _do_ \--” the minibot stressed, and then he shrugged as he looked forward. “But I just don’t get what there is to miss about the city. I mean, _I_ don’t miss it.”

He walked a few more steps before he realized that the triple charger wasn’t walking beside him. Bumblebee stopped, confusion dappling his field as he turned around. Blitzwing stood a few paces behind, staring at him. Bumblebee couldn’t decode why his red optic was flashing.

“What?”

“You don’t miss the city?”

Blitzwing repeated, his helm tilting as he asked. Bumblebee shrugged and shook his helm again.

“No...?”

The triple charger’s gaze narrowed, and his monocular spun out.

“Are you lying to me?”

Bumblebee blinked at his partner, but answered.

“Nope.”

“Let me get this straight, Bumblebee,” Blitzwing asserted, gesturing at him with his servo. “You were sparked in the city, raised by mecha from the city, and had friends from the city. I brought you here, away from your friends and the city mecha who raised you, forced you to live one of the harshest lifestyles on Cybertron--and you’re telling me you _haven’t_ missed your home _in the entire time you’ve been here?”_

“Nu-uh!” He affirmed instantly, not catching the shock his mate was in. “I told you Blitzy, I like it here! Yeah, it was really weird at first that you kidnapped me just because you liked me. But that’s the way you guys roll. I get it. And yeah, I know I'm a useless idiot when it comes to living with you. I can’t even get a fruit out of a tree without almost dying. But at least you guys won’t kick me to the curb for it!”

The warrior’s wings flared and Bumblebee tensed, getting the sinking feeling that he really shouldn’t have said that last part out loud. For a solid klik, they stared at each other, trying to gage the other’s reaction. Anxiety welled in the minibot’s tank with every passing nanosecond that he stared up at the triple charger. Blitzwing watched him with a wide, openly surprised optic, and his monocular had stopped spinning.

“... I never said you were useless, little one.”

He finally responded, his voice much softer than it had been before. Bumblebee felt the triple charger’s field reach out, wrapping around him, and he had a bad feeling he knew what Blitzwing would say next.

“Why do you think anyone would…kick you to the curb, if you didn’t do something right?”

Despite knowing the city dialect, the warrior stumbled on the phrase. He _knew_ the basis of what it meant, but the way the words were put together felt strange. He also did not know what a curb was either. The warrior looked to his mate for an answer, waiting patiently for the chatty little bot to speak.

But this time he didn’t. His optics fell to the ground, and his field withdrew completely out of reach.

“It doesn’t matter, Blitzwing. Let’s just go.”

The minibot wouldn’t look at him as he turned on a heel, intent to continue walking through camp. Blitzwing stared after him for a moment, his startlement turned to alarm.

That was _not_ the smiley, prideful, talkative little mate he was used to. For Bumblebee to shut down any kind of conversation, it was _extremely_ out of character. His demeanour had never turned to this before, not even in the first stellar cycle after his arrival. Yes, there had been anger. Yes, there had been confusion. Then came acceptance and eventually affection. But not this… distanced defeat. _Never_.

To have turned so quickly, and to have turned after a statement like that…

The triple charger’s face spun to crimson when he realized that regardless of what he’d originally assumed, there was something melancholy lurking behind that sweet little smile.

Bumblebee traversed about two steps forward before he felt gigantic arms wrap around his middle and pick him up.

“Whoa what the--?! Blitzwing what are you doing?!”

He squawked, trying to twist around to see the triple charger. Blitzwing didn’t let him, merely throwing him over his shoulder and stomping in another direction through camp.

“Blitzwing!!” He shouted, pounding his fists against the back of the triple charger’s shoulder. “Blitzwing put me down!! This isn’t funny!!”

The warrior ignored him, not even grunting at the little fists banging small dents into his armor. His wings were high and taunt, the only signal of irritation he let through. Bumblebee yelled, kicked, and screamed at him the whole way, demanding to be put down, demanding an explanation. Neither of them even noticed the tribe members who paused what they were doing to witness the scene.

Bumblebee didn’t have a clue where the triple charger was taking him until the warrior leaned down. He heard the whoosh of a tent flap being yanked open, then felt the warrior stoop. The world suddenly became dimmer, all sunlight blocked out by the inside of a tent wall, and the yellow bot barely had time to reset his optics before he was pulled off the warrior’s shoulder. He was plopped into the middle of a pile of furs, and he scrambled back up to his knees to see the triple charger plant himself cross-legged in the way of the exit.

Based on the utter chaos of everything inside, from the misshapen pile of furs to the dim glow of the firepit and the large weapons unceremoniously stacked against the wall, he concluded it was the inside of their tent.

“Blitzwing! What was that for?!”

The minibot yelled, his bright blue optics flaring as he glared at the other. The warrior’s face burned in anger.

“ _You_ ,” he growled, pointing a digit at the minibot, “are telling me why you don’t give a frag about the city! And you’re telling me why the frag you think you’re a useless idiot!”

Bumblebee’s optics flashed even brighter, and his whole frame tensed up again. Blitzwing’s optics narrowed behind his visor, absolutely sure at this point that his mate had left out some crucial details of his life before becoming a part of the tribe. It was about fifteen nanoseconds later before the minibot was able to give an answer.

“W-What?” He squeaked, then quickly cleared his throat. “I just said it doesn’t matter, Blitzwing! Don’t we still have stuff to do?”

The triple charger’s aggressive field filled the inside of the tent as he slammed his fist on the ground between them.

“None of that is more important than this discussion!! You’re hiding something, Bumblebee, don’t think I can’t see it! And you’re _not_ leaving this tent until you tell me what it is!!”

Flinching backwards from his mate’s fist and field, Bumblebee stared back at the warrior in shock. His field was completely withdrawn into his frame, but Blitzwing could see the terror in his expression. It was the first time his mate had ever looked at him in fear, and immediately he knew he did not like it. Guilt ripped painfully at his spark, but Blitzwing held his ground, staring down the yellow bot as he looked away again.

“Blitzwing… I-I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Bumblebee said quietly, and Blitzwing was taken aback at how much _smaller_ Bumblebee sounded when he whispered.

“Can we please go back outside?”

The minibot couldn’t even look at him, and the triple charger felt all of his anger recede in a moment’s notice. His face spun, and with it his field and fist retreated. He felt his wings relax as his monocular spun in and out to focus on the yellow bot.

“Hó’nehe é-he’konetāno vé’še wiiwaši.”

He spoke in a steady tone, and the minibot visibly startled when he switched to his native tongue.

“What?”

Bumblebee asked, the fear in his optics giving way to bewilderment as he looked back at the triple charger. Blitzwing almost smiled at how cute the expression looked on his little yellow bot.

“It means, ‘The wolf’s strength is with his pack.’” He reiterated in the city dialect. “It is an old proverb handed down to us by our ancestors, and one that we hold in the highest contempt. The proverb teaches us that we can only survive this life if we work together, aid our friends, and cherish those we love.”

Blitzwing let his mate digest what he meant for a few moments before he leaned forward where he sat.

“I have been taught to cherish every member of this tribe, including you Bumblebee. I will fight to protect you, them, and our home until the day I go offline, it is simply ingrained in my coding. That is why I cannot believe you when you say you do not miss the city. You were sparked there, you established your morals there, you _must’ve_ had friends and family there. I do not understand how you don’t care for the place you grew up in. I am _trying_ to understand you, Bumblebee, so I may be a better mate to you. But I cannot do that if you do not tell me what I am clearly missing.”

He stopped speaking, leaning back and observing his mate patiently. Bumblebee was staring at him silently, but the bewilderment was leaking from his optics. He watched as it dribbled away, replaced by something darker. So dark, in fact, that it made those bright blue optics dim, become distant, and grow so heavy with emotion that they couldn’t look at him again. It must’ve been at least a few kliks of silence that passed, neither of them moving to break it. Blitzwing was about to try again, try a softer way of encouragement, but before he could open his intake his mate finally broke the barrier of silence.

“I didn’t have any.”

The warrior blinked and his wings twitched. He leaned forward once more.

“Any what?”

“Friends.”

Bumblebee replied softly, and Blitzwing felt a stab of shock in his spark.

_“None?”_

“... I mean,” Bumblebee drew his knees up to his chest as he spoke, wrapping his arms around them. “I had one. But he’s… he’s dead. Everyone else hated me.”

Blitzwing’s single red optic widened. This… This wasn’t at all what he’d expected to come from his mate’s previous life. Across from him, Bumblebee seemed to shrink with every passing moment. The triple charger spoke again, clinging to the hope that he had _something_ more.

“Family?”

Bumblebee shook his helm once, and Blitzwing felt his spark sink. The dimness in the minibot’s optics intensified.

“I never knew my creators. I was dropped off in front of the boot camp facility a few days after I emerged. No one ever came for me afterward.”

Questions and fears began to crawl into the triple charger’s split processor. He remembered his creators. They both died when he was young, but he remembered them. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to hear those titles, and never have faces to match with them. Blitzwing looked away to ponder it for a nanosecond, but the thought was gloomy, and willing to drag him deep. He quickly looked back up, feeling his spark plummet below his tanks for his mate as he grasped for those questions.

“What is a… boot camp facility?”

Slowly, those blue optics slid back up to him. Bumblebee rested his chin on his knees as he replied.

“Boot camp is like…” he started, sounding very tired as he pulled a servo off his legs and gestured absently with it. “where you go in the city to train to be a warrior.”

At first, Blitzwing felt relief. That didn’t sound much different than how he’d grown up. But as he gazed at the vacancy occupying his mate’s optics, he thought about it. He put together, one piece at a time, that this couldn’t have been the same to how he’d grown up. The city and the tribe were two very different places. Blitzwing’s home was an ever-shifting one, but it was familiar, it brought him a sense of peace. Could Bumblebee give the name home to a place where mecha constantly fired blasters and swung blades at each other mere lengths from him? On top of that, Blitzwing once had a carrier and sire, two mechs who’d shown him care and kindness amidst the tribe’s grueling hardship. Bumblebee never had that, and it begged the question if the bots who found him at this boot camp facility even _cared_ about him.

Blitzwing had his downfalls as a warrior with three faces, but even he could guess that this boot camp facility was no place for him at a few days old.

“And you were _left there?_ As a _sparkling?”_

He asked incredulously. Bumblebee shrugged, like the fact didn’t even _bother_ him anymore.

“Yeah. But I always wanted to be an Elite guard… That’s their name for a warrior. So it kinda worked out I guess.”

The yellow bot tried to smile with the light humor, but it didn’t reach his optics. Blitzwing wanted to smile but found that he couldn’t. It made him proud to know that his mate wanted to be a warrior. Very few mecha that came to their tribe from the city knew what a warrior did, let alone wanted to be one. In spite of that, he had the feeling that his mate’s want to be an Elite guard stemmed from no other choice.

Bumblebee suddenly sighed. He folded his arms over his knees, and laid his helm sideways on them.

“No one really liked me,” the yellow bot continued, his voice near silent, but steadily thickening in emotion. “Not even when I was old enough to start training. Most of the other cadets always made fun of me, called me ‘useless’ and ‘loser’ and stuff. Our drill sergeant, the guy who trained us, he was a slagging jerk. Every time anyone made a mistake, he’d lose his mind about it, and punish us all. He never cared that they were bullying me”

Any semblance of the grin on the warrior’s face fell away as Bumblebee spoke, then inhaled shakily.

“The only bot who was ever nice to me at boot camp was Bulkhead from my class. He was big, green, and probably the biggest dolt anyone ever saw.” Bumblebee chuckled sadly as he recalled him. “I remember all the times he stood up for me after I did something stupid, even when he was super mad at me. It never really worked out, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

The sheer volume of emotions crowding the yellow bot’s voice only continued to thicken. He swallowed around them, and blinked to try to dissuade them from seeping into his optics. But Bumblebee already knew it wouldn’t work.

“One day, I guess I fragged up bad. Or Sentinel was just in a really sucky mood, I don’t know anymore. But he got mad at something I did, and then gave us all a really hard punishment. Some of the cadets weren’t happy about it, and, well…”

Bumblebee trailed off, and he glanced up at Blitzwing. The warrior’s expression was unreadable, but his wings were rising in tension. He had to look away, down at the hot embers of their firepit, before he could steel himself to talk again.

“... Two of my classmates, Wasp and Ironhide, they got the jump on me afterwards. They beat me up pretty good, tore off my legs, and threw me into a supply closet. I didn’t think anything could hurt so much before that, and I’d never been scared of the dark either. But I couldn’t even reach up to turn on the light. I just sat there bleeding out in the dark, thinking that they’d come back to finish me off.”

He paused, inhaled again, and did not dare to look up.

“They never did. Bulkhead ended up finding me before I bled out. Everything was ok for a little while after that. The other cadets terrified me, but they didn’t try to hurt me again… A couple stellar cycles later, Sentinel had us do combat in a fake battlezone. We were told it was supposed to be a training exercise. Something must’ve happened I guess, maybe the remote control broke or someone programmed it wrong… Anyway, out of nowhere it started firing actual lasers at us. Everyone beat it out of there. I panicked, froze up and I would’ve been scrap metal if it weren’t for Bulkhead. He threw me out of the line of fire… But not before the dolt went and got himself shot.”

His grief and self-hatred finally began to spill, swirling in the tears that dripped down his faceplate. Bumblebee tried to wipe them away, sniffling when it came to no avail.

“Everyone blamed me for his death. They were right to, I guess, I was the idiot that made him cross into the line of fire. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for it… Then Sentinel kicked me out of boot camp. Once that happened, and I couldn’t go back to the place I grew up in, I decided I didn’t want to live in the city anymore. So I hopped on the first caravan I could get to, let it take me wherever, and… here I am.”

Bumblebee heaved a sigh as he finished, grateful that his personal narrative was over. He sank into the silence, tucking his head into his arms and staring at the tops of his knee joints as he waited for the triple charger to do something. Yell at him. Kick him out of the tent. Pummel him into the ground. Throw him out of camp and threaten him if he ever returned. _Anything_.

Then the whirring began.

Usually with Blitzwing, it was just one whirr as his faceplates switched. This time, it wouldn’t stop.

Confused, Bumblebee pulled his head out of his arms to actually look up at the triple charger. His faceplates were spinning rapidly, his wings ramrod straight against his back as his split processor tried in vain to decide which face to settle on. Bumblebee’s optics widened and he uncurled himself from his ball-like position.

“Blitzwing, you ok…?”

His faceplates cycled instantaneously three more times before settling momentarily on the black face.

“I should be my poor little bug that question!”

He exclaimed with a strained cackle before his faceplate switched, landing on crimson.

“WHEN I GET MY SERVOS ON THOSE SCRAPHEAPS I’M GONNA RIP OFF ALL THEIR LEGS AND CRAM THEM DOWN THEIR THROATS!!”

Bumblebee flinched backwards. Blitzwing had never roared so loud or spoke so violently before, not even with this face in control.

“Blitzwing, hey, it’s ok! I’m fine now--”

His faces spun through another two cycles before pausing again.

“All that time my itty-bitty bug was being _stomped_ on by _cruel meanies!”_

Black-faced Blitzwing shrieked dramatically, and then was replaced again by crimson.

“I WILL CRUSH THEM BENEATH MY PEDS LIKE TWIGS!!”

Bumblebee was starting to panic when the triple charger’s faces spun out of control. Looking around their tent, he found the weapons leaning against the wall and scrambled over to them. Grabbing the first one he could lift, the minibot raised the handle of his partner’s skinning knife and whacked it as hard as he could against the back of his helm.

As if he’d hit a switch, the triple charger’s faces instantly ceased spinning, landing on blue. His monocular spun wildly in and out in an attempt to focus as his helm rotated in little circles. He looked dizzy, and it would’ve been amusing if Bumblebee was in any mood to laugh. The yellow bot dropped the knife, scrambling back around to stand in front of his partner.

“Blitzwing? You good now?”

The warrior placed both servos firmly on the ground, shuttering his optic. It was about half a klik before the warrior could manage a nod.

“Thank you.”

He said at last, and Bumblebee sighed in relief. At least now he knew what to do if _that_ ever happened again. The minibot sat down in front of the triple charger, folding one leg under the other and waiting as he regained his semblance of equilibrium.

A large servo soon moved from where it was curled on the ground, reaching out to cover the entirety of his knee and lower leg strut. Bumblebee blinked in surprise.

“You are not useless, little one.”

The triple charger muttered, onlining his single red optic and tilting his helm to gaze down at the minibot. Bumblebee stared back at him, and then shrugged.

“You don’t have to say nice things to me just cause my life sucks. I know I’m a moron. I probably made ‘moron of the millennia’ by now. It’s the only thing I’m really good at.”

Bumblebee felt the warrior’s servo squeeze his limb in a tighter grip.

“You made mistakes, little one, as everyone does.” Blitzwing responded, “You are also a victim of circumstances that were out of your control. Neither of those factors indicate that you are moronic, or useless.”

As he spoke, the minibot’s helm drooped. He couldn’t hold the other’s gaze by the time he was able to shake his head.

“But I _am_ , Blitzwing.” Bumblebee croaked, feeling tears prick at his optics once more. “If I hadn’t been so stupid, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten my legs ripped off. Maybe Bulkhead would still be alive, and we’d both be Elite guards by now.”

The minibot felt large digits slide under his chin and gently lift his head. He’d never seen the triple charger’s blue face portray such raw _tenderness_ before.

“Listen to me, Bumblebee. If anyone deserves the blame for the incident with your legs… for an act of such _cruelty_ , it’s your fellow cadets. They are not true warriors if they couldn’t take a punishment, nor will they ever be.”

His faces spun again, and Bumblebee felt the digits under his chin tremble as the warrior fought to not curl them like claws.

“If I ever get my servos on them, I’ll crush them into bits and pieces!!”

Blitzwing snarled, his wings flicking irritably. They relaxed when his blue face returned moments after.

“And your friend, Bulkhead, do you think he would be happy that you blame yourself for his death?”

Bumblebee’s optics drifted as he thought about the question, voluntarily letting himself think about the green mech for the first time in a while. He smiled when those abandoned memories brought a clear picture of Bulkhead to the forefront of his processor, and shook his head on top of his partner’s digits.

“No… the big dolt would probably say ‘that’s what friends do for each other.’”

“Exactly, little one.” Blitzwing acknowledged, his thumb coming up to stroke over the side of his face. “That is the way a friendship works. You and Bulkhead held a strong bond, and he chose to exhibit that bond by standing up for you in your times of need. From what you’ve told me, I don’t think Bulkhead regretted putting himself in harm’s way for a friend. Nor do I think _you_ should be the one regretting that for him.”  
  
Bumblebee stared up at the triple charger with wide, wet optics. Blitzwing’s other servo came up and he cupped the entirety of his mate’s face, shaking it gently.

“You panicked, Bumblebee, there is no shame in such a reaction. Anyone is libel to react the same way, even the tribe’s warriors. That was not your fault. You suffered a lifetime of torment at the servos of your peers. _That_ was _not_ your fault. You were abandoned by your creators in your greatest time of need. _That was not your fault._ I refuse to believe it, and I refuse to let you believe it. Alright?”

Blitzwing let his field surround the yellow bot, embracing him with all the honest determination, and sorrow he felt for his little mate. Bumblebee sniffled, searching the warrior’s optics for any sign that this held no meaning. That this conversation was nothing but a way to stop his whining, and that his dark thoughts were right all along… He found nothing but Blitzwing’s conviction. The sight of it was like a warm blanket that eased away a chill so deep in his struts he’d forgotten it was there. A thin smile pulled at his intake, and he nodded up at the triple charger.

“Ok.”

He croaked back, pulling his servos up to grasp at the warrior’s large digits. The edge of Blitzwing’s lip plates curled into a small grin, and he let one servo fall to grasp his mate’s small servos. His other servo remained where it was as his thumb came up to wipe away the wet streaks from the minibot’s face.The warrior’s expression then turned somber.

“... I’m sorry I forced you to talk about your past, Bumblebee. I can see it’s caused you pain to reflect on it.”

Bumblebee sniffed again, his shoulders moving in a shrug.

“Hey,” he spoke, his voice cracking as he attempted to talk normally. “I had to face it sometime right? I mean, yeah, I _really_ don’t like talking about it, but you’re my mate. If anyone should know why I don’t miss the city, it’s you.”

The triple charger’s intake quirked back up again, and he nodded in agreement.

“Yes, that is a fair point, little one.”

They both fell quiet, letting their fields mingle with one another as a new level of understanding took its place between them. Blitzwing was content to let it dwell. To share a moment where he _knew_ , without a doubt, finding Bumblebee in the caravan and taking him as his mate was the best decision he’d ever made. For the both of them. Bumblebee, in the meanwhile, sat back up and wiped his faceplates one more time as he looked around. Now that his processor wasn’t clouded by self-loathing, he could hear the sounds from outside their tent more clearly.  
  
“Can we, um…” The minibot began hopefully, leaning over to attempt a glance at the flap over their tent’s exit. “Can we go back outside now?”

Blitzwing smiled down at his mate, chuckling at his brightening field. He weaved his field tighter into it, wanting to savor that energy. Wanting to hold onto that brilliant, beautiful joy in Bumblebee that had survived so much pain, so much scorn, and had attracted his spark from a world away.

“Not yet.”

He answered cryptically, receiving a confused little frown and a head tilt that the triple charger couldn’t help but find cute.

“Huh? Why not?”

The amusement rose in him, burning in his face and causing it to spin to black. His crimson grin stretched so far it touched the sides of his helm.

“Now I have to kiss and cuddle my itty-bitty bug cause I made you sad!”

Bumblebee only had a few nanoseconds warning when he noticed the triple charger’s wings quiver. His optics widened and he chuckled nervously.

“Wait a minute, Blitzy--”

The warrior pounced with a cackle, engulfing the minibot into his arms and rolling them both into the pile of pelts on the ground. Squeezing the wriggling yellow bot to his chest, Blitzwing attacked him with kisses, planting them everywhere he could reach from his chest to his face to his stubby horns. Bumblebee laughed and wheezed, blushing profusely as his mate’s field poured fondness and affection over him.

“Blitzy! Hey--ack! I love you too! Hey--ok wait, Blitzy that’s kinda gross, ew--Blitzwing!!”

Bumblebee squeaked loudly as the triple charger’s long tongue laved over his face, dipping down into the ticklish spot under his chin. The warrior giggled, rolling over to put the yellow bot underneath him and burrow him in the pelts. The minibot sucked in a long breath now that his chest wasn’t compressed, looking up as his mate’s tongue retreated and his face spun to blue. Blitzwing’s icy expression turned into a loving smile, and Bumblebee smiled back at him, reaching up to grab the edge of his chest plate.

“C’mere you.”

Blitzwing felt his little bot tug him closer. He immediately caved into it, lowering himself onto his elbows and met Bumblebee for a kiss. The minibot wrapped his arms around his neck plating, and the triple charger’s wings shivered over them. Something hot and tinged with desire zipped through his frame, pulsing out into their fields and causing them both to shudder. Feeling Bumblebee’s lips part, he contented them both with a slow exploration. The heat slowly simmered to a warmth that tangled between them, exchanged through their closeness, and the triple charger could feel the blissful pulse of his mate’s spark between them.

In the back of his split processor, he knew Bumblebee was probably right. Perhaps they should’ve gone back outside, gone back to the tasks still waiting… But what need was there to rush when his mate was right here? When that bright shade of yellow lit up their tent, and those breathtaking blue optics needed him? Far be it from the warrior to ignore his most sacred duty. After all, the storm seasons would not cease their approach no matter what they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thought of the Day:  
> Did the TFA creators actually attempt some kind of DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) with Blitzwing? Now that I think about it, some traits about him are a little bit too similar to not be some kind of symbolization of it. Maybe they did it in a way to make fun of DID? (Which I think is wrong and do not condone in any way) They seem to attempt to capture something like DID with Blitzwing. They made it so that each of his faces held a different identity, but they interacted with each other constantly, something I know the identities of individuals with DID cannot do. Also, with Hothead... that stereotype's just mean. I don't know a lot about DID, but I do know that individuals with DID do not inherently all have a violent identity in the mix. So at this point, I don't know whether to be mad at the TFA creators or to laugh at their pitiful attempt of a joke... Or maybe I took the show too seriously.
> 
> Alright, I'm done with my rant. Have a nice day


End file.
